| Title: Consorted Authors: Jo & Brenda Series: Claimed, part 3 Pairings: Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom/Harry Sinclair/David Wenham; (Sean Bean/Dominic Monaghan; Viggo Mortensen/??) Rating: NC17 Summary: New vamps, new pets...and, yeah. All of the old fave vamps & pets, too. Plus, Elijah goes on a date. *grins* Disclaimer: Vampires still don't exist. And we doubt any of these things ever happened. But, you never know. Author's Notes: As ever, you guys all rock. We are humbled & thankful that so many of you love these guys as much as we do. We hope this last part entertains. *mwah*
He finally stepped into the kitchen, and wrapped his arms around Harry's back, breathed in his scent. "You should let me clean up." Harry didn't turn, although he leaned back into Dave's embrace. "You cooked tonight. I'm cleaning." "Never would have pegged you for the domestic type." Dave kissed the back of Harry's neck and reluctantly released him, moving to lean against the counter. Harry flashed him an amused smile. "I'm not." He rinsed the final spoon, turned off the water. "Hell, I have a hard time remembering where my own kitchen is," he said, grabbing a kitchen towel and drying off his hands. "You seem to have figured out your way around mine pretty well," Dave teased. "Well, it's kind of hard to miss, seeing as how it's by the front door." Harry placed his arms on either side of the counter, leaned in to nip softly on Dave's lips. "Have you started packing yet?" "Yeah." Dave leaned in for another quick kiss. "About half-finished." And the things he didn't absolutely need before Sunday were stacked in the spare bedroom in neatly labeled boxes. "Good." Harry's hand was gentle as it traced the contours of Dave's face. "I want you to be comfortable at the castle. Make whatever changes you like." "Doubt I'll change much." Dave leaned into the caress, turned his head just enough to brush his lips across Harry's hand. "At least not at first." "The library is off limits, so don't even think it, child." "Off limits?" Harry gave Dave a swift kiss, stepped back. "Don't think I never noticed your hands itching to straighten whenever you used to come by the house to drop off papers." "Ah." Dave ducked his head, tried not to grin. "Wouldn't dream of disturbing your, um, whatever it is you have going on in that room." "It's called selective organization." Harry grinned when Dave snorted in disbelief. "I know where everything is. That's all that matters." "I'll keep that in mind. Though," Dave said, gesturing towards the door leading to the living room, "I'm surprised you can find anything in there." Harry followed Dave to the sofa and sat, groaning. "God, you sound just like Karl." He pulled Dave in his lap when Dave made a move to sit on the chair next to him. "Why do you always do that?" "Do what?" Dave twisted around to look at Harry, moving just enough to get comfortable. "Sound like Karl?" "You always try to sit away from me." Harry moved his hands along Dave's waist. "I like touching you. Get used to it." "Oh." Dave shifted again, leaned back. "I don't know. Guess I'm still getting used to this. I like you touching me, though." "At least we don't have to worry about that aspect of our relationship." "No, I think we're, um, pretty compatible in that aspect." That was an understatement. Dave didn't think he could possibly get any more compatible physically with Harry. "I...um..." Harry tilted Dave's head forward, started placing tiny kisses along the back of Dave's neck, "have a message for you from Karl." Dave closed his eyes, shivered as Harry's lips touched a sensitive spot. "What's that?" "He wants to take you out." "Like on a date?" Harry ran his hands under Dave's shirt. "I guess. Said he wanted to get to know you better before Sunday." "That's nice," Dave murmured, arching into Harry's touch. "I guess that's a good idea. Will he be bringing Orli?" "Just you," Harry said, peeling off Dave's shirt. "And what will you be doing?" Dave turned to straddle Harry's lap, linked his hands behind Harry's neck. "Probably arguing with young Orlando about his choice in restaurants," Harry sighed, tracing Dave's shoulder with his teeth. "He's not that bad." Dave tilted his head to the side. His hands moved to trace the muscles in Harry's back. "Is he?" "Mmm, he's worse. He's a vegetarian. Have I mentioned lately how much I love touching you?" "Not in the last few minutes, no." Dave's fingers trailed up Harry's spine. "A vegetarian? Bet that shocked you and Karl when you found out." "I really don't want to talk about Orlando," Harry stated, claiming Dave's lips in a brutal kiss. //'S fine, I don't want to talk, period.// Dave's tongue snaked out, sliding over Harry's, and he scooted closer to press his chest against Harry. Whether it was the experience or the man or some combination thereof, Dave couldn't say. All he really knew was that Harry most motherfucking assuredly knew how to kiss. Wasn't just his mouth or tongue or lips or teeth or fangs, as potent as they were. It was the way Harry simply sucked him in completely, leaving no room in Dave's world except for what Harry was doing to him. He was barely coherent when Harry finally lifted his head. "God," Dave said when he thought he could put more than two words together. "I fucking love how you kiss." "I love how you taste, so we're even." Harry dipped back for another slow swipe of tongue across Dave's lips. "I can't believe I never noticed." "Kinda hard to notice without kissing me." Dave grinned, as he nipped Harry's bottom lip. "Why did we wait so long again?" "Because I didn't think you could possibly be interested in me when you were so wrapped up in Karl." Dave placed tiny kisses along Harry's jaw between each word. "And then I found out about Orlando and figured I really didn't have a snowball's chance in hell." "Stupid of me not to notice." Harry dug his nails into Dave's back, marking sensitive skin. "I should have known, should have guessed, something." Dave opened his mouth on Harry's neck, let his fangs graze across pliant flesh. "I got good at hiding it. Hell, Vig didn't even know, and I spent a lot more time around him than I did around you." "Don't." Harry lifted Dave's head. "I'm not going to be able to control myself if you do that." "Maybe I don't want you to control yourself." Dave's eyes locked with Harry's, unwavering, challenging. "Maybe I want to be the one to make you lose some of that damn control." Harry shook his head slightly, loosened his grip on Dave's back. "Not yet." Dave watched Harry for another moment, then sighed, letting his head drop to rest on Harry's shoulder. "Christ...I don't know how much longer I can stand this." "Imagine how I feel." Harry leaned his cheek against Dave's hair. "You've had decades to think about me. I'm still trying to get used to everything. And the waiting for you is killing me. It's all a bit fucked." "Wish you hadn't decided to wait," Dave grumbled, turning his head so that his lips touched Harry's throat. "And you'd be more accurate to say I've had decades to...um. Anyway, it's beyond fucked." "And how many times would you say you did 'um' while thinking about me?" Harry teased. "Too many to count." Dave was glad his head was down because he just knew he was blushing. Again. "Wish I could say the same, but, to be honest, I never really thought of you beyond being a good-looking pain in my ass until the night of Sean and Dom's party." Dave shrugged, head still resting on Harry's shoulder. "Never expected you to..." He trailed off. Wait. Good-looking? His head popped up. "You thought I was good-looking?" "Of course I did," Harry replied, mildly amused, kissing the crease between Dave's eyes. "What's not to like? Blond, gorgeous, built, great bedroom eyes. I looked. Hell, Karl looked. But you were..." "I was what?" Now Dave was curious. Harry had been looking at him? Karl, too? Whoa. "Infuriating. Irritating. Insulting. Want me to go on?" "No, I get the idea." Dave dropped his head, watched Harry from beneath his lashes. "So you really looked at me?" "I really did." Dave leaned back, placing his hands behind him on Harry's knees to brace himself. He cocked his head and studied Harry for a moment. "I had no idea. Might have said something a lot sooner if I'd known that." Harry threw one arm behind him on the back of the sofa, rested the other on Dave's hip. "Maybe it was better this way. I don't know." His eyes looked a bit troubled. "There's still so much I don't know about you, so much you don't know about me. I don't want you to feel pressured, rushed. I know first hand how disastrous that can be." "I don't feel pressured or rushed." Dave wanted to add that he felt frustrated more than anything, but didn't. He already knew the response to that one. "So what do you want to know about me? Ask away, I'm all yours." "Tell me about your family," Harry said, absently stroking Dave's hip, his waist. "Not much to tell, really." Dave shifted a bit, still leaning back so he could see Harry. "I'm the youngest of two boys and five girls, grew up in London. Your typical middle class English family at the time." "Funny, you don't act like you grew up in Victorian England," Harry commented. "Not at all repressed." "I was the rebel in the family." Dave grinned. "Packed up everything on a whim and moved around the world to work for Vig. Kinda hard to be repressed working for him." Harry nodded in affirmation. "God, don't I know it. Fucker knows entirely too much about everything. You have no idea how much Karl and I used to delight in defying him every single chance we got." "The two of you are usually his favorite rant topic. Quite funny to watch when he gets wound up." Dave shifted his weight to one hand, brought the other around to rest in his lap. "Everyone knows you're his favorites...and favorites to bitch about." Harry's hand moved up to Dave's chest, running through crisp blond hairs. Dave wondered if he even knew what he was doing or if touching like this was second nature to him. "Seeing as how he considers us sons, I'm not surprised." "You should see us in the office after you've pissed him off." Dave's hand shifted, moved up to toy with the buttons on Harry's shirt. "He'll come stalking through, and as soon as his office door slams, we start placing bets on which one of you did what." Harry smirked. "So, who wins the most money in the pool?" "Me," Dave replied a bit smugly. "And why am I not surprised?" Harry leaned up, brushed his lips across Dave's before lounging back on the cushions. "I could always piss Gramps off faster than Karl could." "Karl's more subtle than you are. It usually takes Vig longer to figure out Karl's done something." Dave leaned forward for another kiss, touching his lips to Harry's in a light, teasing gesture. Harry returned the kiss, but stopped Dave's hands on his shirt. "Are you trying to distract me so you can get my clothes off, cariad?" "That obvious, huh?" Dave flattened his hands against Harry's chest, content to let them rest there for the moment. "Harry...what is that that you've been calling me?" "What, cariad?" "Yes. What's it mean?" "It's Welsh," Harry said, moving his hand back down to Dave's hip. "The nearest equivalent means beloved, but it's a bit more than that." "More than that?" Curious blue eyes studied Harry's face as thumbs traced the lines of his chest beneath his shirt. "The Welsh have four different words for love," Harry explained. "Brawdgarwch means familial love, anwyliant is platonic love, serch is affectionate love, and cariad is...it's almost biblical. All-consuming, encompassing. Soulmate love." Dave stared. He couldn't think of a single thing to say. All-consuming? Soulmate? He hardly dared to breathe as his eyes roamed over Harry's face, searching. "And this," he murmured when he finally found words to say, "is what you would call me?" |